Before I met Sinead O’Connor her intensity scared me – but then she sought me out and the conversation floored me
I WONDER why it’s more difficult to find the words to describe someone great than it is someone we dislike.
It could be there is not enough vocabulary to articulate true awesomeness.
They say never meet your heroes, but with Sinead O’Connor I hit the jackpot.
In the late Nineties, I was hosting the Hot Press Rock Awards in Belfast and Sinead was there. In the presence of greatness, it’s not unusual for me to retreat into my shell and not make eye contact.
I felt like that with Sinead.
I can’t deny that I feared her. Her intensity and prominence scared me.
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There was something so incredible, so awesome, so loud and strong about her that I felt very small in comparison.
It hadn’t occurred to me that we were basically the same age, she just a year older. Her heroism, her greatness, her talent, her ability and her forthrightness had always made me feel like she had years on me.
She was a spectacular powerhouse and, in comparison, I felt like a bedsit above a corner shop.
I didn’t even know if she knew who I was — why would she?
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But after the ceremony, she sought me out for a chat. It turns out she was a massive Shooting Stars fan and had more than a soft spot for its co-host Vic Reeves.
It was one of the more surreal conversations of my life. This was a soft and gentle woman with a great sense of humour who, despite her musical grandeur and outspokenness, made me feel I was worthy of an evening’s conversation and laughter. It floored me. Of course, she floored others for different reasons.
Over the years, her volatility and activism agitated and perturbed people. She often came across as a loose cannon, especially in an industry where conformity is the order of the day.
She was truly fearless and had no intention of being silenced.
If she felt something, if she believed something, if she lost faith in anything, she would not hesitate to express it — either in words or in music.
She became a thorn in the sides of many as she created a kind of uncomfortable noise, when all they wanted was dignified silence.
This ability to unsettle was made a hundred times worse by the fact she was a woman.
Had she been a man, her actions and behaviour would have been seen as intriguing, creative — inspiring even.
When she shaved her head, , became ordained as a Tridentine priest, then converted to Islam, many saw her actions as pure madness.
She had the emotional intelligence and confidence to embrace even that.
She talked openly about the struggles she had with mental health in the hope it would help others to speak out.
Instead, many continued to view her through the prism of lunacy and absurdity when, in fact, what she was doing was showing vulnerability and great strength. And it was for that I admired her so much.
I, too, lived in the patriarchy, but I felt obliged to conform.
I didn’t have the courage to go out on a limb, to speak out about the things I felt were wrong with the world.
I kept my head down while Sinead faced issues of racism, abortion rights and child abuse head on.
And from time to time, as her former agent said, she “walked straight into the jaws of madness”, without fear of judgment. It felt like she took the path of greatest resistance time and time again — and it is for this reason she was a role model to me and many others.
To add to her reputation for being unsettled, bonkers and riotous, she married four times.
Let’s face it, there can be no greater indication that a woman is faulty than if she flits from marriage to marriage. I should know.
Real tears
Sinead knew how to love. The fragility of would break even the coldest heart.
I’d never before felt lyrics like that. I’d never had a song touch me with its tragedy, anguish and torment.
The tears in that video were real. And we all knew that.
The very essence of this most beautiful creature was vulnerability and gentleness, yet she was still capable of challenging patriarchy, society and conformity.
Those are extraordinary achievements.
I’m sure she was lost at times. I hope she had someone or something to steady her keel — perhaps her children. I can’t imagine what losing her 17-year-old son last year did to her.
One thing is for sure. There will never be another Sinead.
And nothing could even compare.
Sleep peacefully, warrior friend.
Birth plan? Avoid an influencer
AFTER giving birth to her first baby a month ago, Love Islander Montana Brown has now shared her pregnancy choices, which seems quite the trend.
In my day, you read books and made limited but informed decisions. Nowadays, you listen to influencers. Which can be a problem.
Of course, every mother-to-be should have autonomy over her choices, but the fact remains she is also making decisions for her unborn child.
Navigating the dos and don’ts of pregnancy, I recall, was a nightmare.
You can’t eat this and that. You shouldn’t have hot baths. Don’t drink alcohol. No soft cheese or cured ham. The list is endless. I followed the guidelines stringently.
Montana, however, has made very candid confessions. She ate soft-boiled eggs (risk of salmonella), pate (risk of listeria) and raw fish (can contain harmful bacteria). And she admitted having the odd glass of wine (another no-no, the NHS tells us).
The 27-year-old says she refused to be a stressed mum-to-be and chose to do things her way. But the bottom line is that some of these are just unnecessary risks – and most of us could live without these things for nine months.
I randomly craved port and blue cheese in my first pregnancy but managed to abstain.
Montana also opted for a home birth because, as a non-white person, she didn’t feel she would be safe in hospital.
Obviously I am a white woman, but I never contemplated a home birth and I’m glad. Three out of four of my pregnancies resulted in very severe haemorrhaging – I would have bled to death before getting to hospital.
One of my babies required a forceps delivery. And the fourth ended in a caesarean. Go figure.
So, while a charming birthing pool in the living room, whale music in the background, a doula rubbing my back, a supportive partner making me herbal teas and hypnotherapy for pain relief would have been dreamy, it also would have ended tragically.
Of course, we all want serene births with minimal medical intervention, but we have to keep it real. Some say giving birth is the most natural thing for a woman to do. I would have punched you in the throat if you’d said that to me as I was trying to push 10lb of baby out of my undercarriage.
Montana got lucky.
But then that’s the arrogance and ignorance of youth, I suppose.
Gary's 'Elle of a split
I CAN’T pretend that I think everything Gary Lineker does warms the cockles of my heart, but seeing pictures of him chilling with his ex-wife Danielle Bux on a beach in Ibiza did.
The couple divorced in 2016 but have remained on good terms. Really good terms.
So much so that, despite the fact she remarried, they can be seen out together from time to time.
Some people will think this is just plain weird. They will suspect there’s something fishy going on because this is not how marriages are supposed to end.
And let’s face it, in part they’re right.
Divorces often end in bitterness, sometimes hatred of the other person and an absence of communication.
That’s what we’re used to. It’s what we expect. Anything else just feels unnatural.
Gary and Danielle have managed something seemingly impossible by remaining close, deciding not to fall out, working on an amicable dissolution of their marriage and acknowledging that they both, ultimately, just wanted different things.
No blame, no antagonism.
How very grown-up. How very progressive.
It’s definitely not something everyone will be capable of achieving because in its very simplest form, divorce is the strongest indication that you don’t want to have anything to do with the other person.
Ever again.
If Gary and Danielle’s situation makes people feel uncomfortable, then that’s on them. I think they should be applauded and admired for reaching the point they’re at.
They may be the exception rather than the rule, but they are proof, in an all too antagonistic world, that there can be peace and harmony post-divorce.
Women who don’t have children are no less important
US women are meant to stick together. But it’s tough when our lives can often be so incredibly different.
It’s not that we’re devoid of empathy but there are times and places when it isn’t always possible to show compassion in the way that’s expected of us.
So I wasn’t at all surprised to hear that childless women are sick of feeling exploited by working mums in the office – especially during school holidays.
Half of British women have no kids by the time they are 30 and 18 per cent will go on to have no children at all.
That is double the rate of their own mothers’ generation.
Let’s remember that not all childless women are so by choice either, but whichever way you flip the numbers, they are in a minority, there’s no doubt about that.
I guess what those without children must feel is that their time is somehow less valuable because they don’t have kids – as if they don’t have a private, personal or social life that could possibly be as important.
I would hazard a guess that they do have a life outside work, though – probably a considerably more exciting, possibly even a busier one, than those of us with kids hanging on our coat-tails.
Which makes a mockery of the term “childless” – as if they’re missing something from their lives. I’m sure it’s very possible to feel fulfilled without children.
I don’t know what the solution is but perhaps we need men to help a bit more. Everything in life is about compromise and I understand that can be an impossible task when you’re limited by summer and half-term holiday dates.
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I just want those without kids to know they are seen and heard, too.
And their needs shouldn’t be overlooked for that reason alone.